


Knowing

by fangirl_squee



Series: homies help homies, always [33]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-14 06:56:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras finally manages to verbally ask Grantaire about his family, it's pretty effective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knowing

**Author's Note:**

> This is set after 'The Right Question', so you should probably read that one before this (I know, I've written things in chronological order! I'm surprised too).

Grantaire’s sister is surprise, and at the same time, she’s completely what Enjolras expected. Her sharp business suit and smooth her is the opposite of Grantaire’s ratty t-shirt and paint-matted hair. She has the same smile as Grantaire, pleased and wide as Grantaire hugs her, and the same sharp twist to it as she makes cynical remarks about “insufferable idealists”.

 

Grantaire doesn’t seem to be surprised to see her, grinning sheepishly as Enjolras as he shoves his things in a bag to leave with his sister. Marius and Cosette don’t seem surprised either, although that’s not unexpected. There’s rarely anything that Grantaire says or does that Marius doesn’t know about beforehand, and if Marius knows there’s a good chance he’ll tell Cosette.

 

Enjolras knows that it’s party just because they live together, after all, there are some things that Combeferre knows about him just because they see each other every day. Still, they’ve known each other almost their whole lives, and even they can’t speak so wordlessly to each other. When Grantaire and says goodbye with the flick of a hand a grin, it makes Marius laugh as though they’ve had a full conversation.

 

He’s perhaps a little short when he speaks to Marius, although Marius doesn’t seem to notice. When Marius goes to get lunch, Cosette fixes him with a look.

 

“What?” says Enjolras.

 

“Nothing, just … don’t be so hard on Marius,” says Cosette, “he’s close to Grantaire, it’s only natural that Grantaire shares things with him.”

 

“He shares a lot more with Marius than he does with me. I mean, I didn’t even know his sister was coming today. It’s like he doesn’t trust me,” says Enjolras.

 

Cosette frowns, glancing over to where Marius is trying to balance his wallet and two bowls of soup on a tray. “I’m sure that’s not it. I didn’t know she was coming today either, Marius told me she wouldn’t get to their place until later.”

 

“At least you knew she was coming,” Enjolras snaps.

 

“ _Enjolras_ ,” says Cosette.

 

Enjolras sighs. “Sorry, I just … I feel like I’m always the last to know, with Grantaire.”

 

Cosette taps his phone lightly. “Maybe you should tell him that. Neither of you are psychic, you have to actually use words to communicate.”

 

Marius returns to the table with lunch for himself and Cosette, and Cosette changes to topic of conversation firmly to their weekend study plans. Enjolras is glad for the temporary distraction, even though Cosette drags Marius off to study as soon as their finished eating. Marius carries a stack of her books, cheeks going pink as Enjolras smirks a little at him (because _really_ , carrying her books for her. Enjolras might not know a lot about dating but even he knows that’s a cliché).

 

Enjolras can’t concentrate after the two of them leave, not even after he takes his work to the library. He reads the same paragraph three times before he gives up and heads for home, switching his phone to silent out of habit. He always does, when he’s driving.

 

He checks his phone as soon as he get in the door, and there’s a missed call from Grantaire. Enjolras drops his bag by the side of his desk, pulling out his books and study notes with the phone pressed against his shoulder and ear.

 

Grantaire picks up on the fourth ring. “Hey there.”

 

“Sorry, I was driving,” says Enjolras.

 

“That’s okay, I thought as much. Are you okay? You sound kind of … weird” says Grantaire.

 

“I’m fine, I just didn’t expect to hear from you,” says Enjolras, “I thought you’d still be out with your sister. I mean, you said you were going to a bar, so.”

 

Grantaire huffs a laugh, a burst of static over the phone. “She’s got a networking thing tonight and an early start tomorrow, we didn’t really have time to actually go, like, serious business drinking.” Grantaire pauses for a moment, before he add, “sorry about lunch. I mean, sorry we didn’t actually get to _have_ lunch. I would have said something if I’d known she was coming by earlier.”

 

What Enjolras _means_ to say is that it’s fine, he’s a grown man and he doesn’t need someone to sit next to him while they make terrible jokes about politics and history and listen to Enjolras complain about his essay word limit. What he _actually_ says is, “I didn’t even know she was coming.”

 

“What?” says Grantaire.

 

“Well, you didn’t tell me she was coming to visit you,” says Enjolras.

 

When Enjolras had come to see Grantaire after their argument in the hospital, Grantaire had talked a little about his family. It had seemed like a sore subject, so Enjolras hadn’t pushed for any information. Unfortunately what that meant was he still didn’t have a lot of information. He’d tried asking Marius, who _obviously_ knew, but Marius was remarkably tight-lipped about it. The only thing he would tell Enjolras was that Grantaire hadn’t seen his parents in about two years, and when Enjolras had pressed further Marius would only say “you should really ask Grantaire”.

 

“Oh,” says Grantaire, “sorry. I thought I had, I guess. Sorry.”

 

Enjolras sighs, tapping his pen against his notes. “You don’t have to be _sorry_ , I was just surprised, that’s all. I thought you didn’t really see your family.”

 

“I don’t, really. Claire’s pretty much the only one I talk to. I mean, not that I mind, I didn’t talk to the rest of them much before anyway,” says Grantaire.

 

“Before what?” says Enjolras.

 

“What?”

 

“You just said that you didn’t talk to your family a lot _before_. So what happened?” Enjolras knows he’s pushing, and Grantaire could very well just brush this off with a joke, but Cosette said to just ask, and Marius seemed to think Grantaire would respond well to the direct approach.

 

“I, uh, it’s complicated? And kind of a dumb story?” says Grantaire.

 

“I can come over, if it makes it easier for you to tell me,” says Enjolras.

 

“It really is a dumb story,” says Grantaire, “but if you want to know then I’ll tell you.”

 

“I’m coming over now,” says Enjolras.

 

He hears Grantaire laugh as he hangs up.

 

Marius’ car isn’t in the driveway (probably still at Cosette’s), and there’s no other cars (although Grantaire’s sister could have gotten here by taxi, or the bus).

 

Grantaire gives him a slightly nervous smile as he opens the door, stepping back to let him in. “Hey.”

 

Enjolras smiles in return, and he hopes it’s reassuring. “Hi.”

 

“So, uh, did you want some tea or something? I just put the kettle on,” says Grantaire.

 

Enjolras follows him to the kitchen. “Sure. Marius and your sister still out?”

 

“Yeah, Marius is at Cosette’s studying, and Claire left for her networking thing a little while ago,” says Grantaire, “we’ve got the place to ourselves for a few hours.”

 

He waggles his eyebrows and Enjolras, and Enjolras resists the urge to roll his eyes. If he’s going to take advantage of the small window of privacy, it’s going to be for talking purposes (and his eyes _certainly do not_ track the moment of the muscles in Grantaire’s back as he reaches up to get the tea bags off the top shelf).

 

“Speaking for your sister –“

 

Grantaire lets out a breath. “It’s _really_ not that interesting a story.”

 

Enjolras frowns, accepting a mug from Grantaire. “It’s a story about you. Everything about you is interesting.”

 

Enjolras sees Grantaire’s quick smile before Grantaire looks down at his mug. They sit opposite each other in the kitchen.

 

Grantaire runs a finger around the edge of his mug, avoiding Enjolras’ eyes. “What do you want to know?”

 

It’s a deliberately broad question, but Enjolras has a specific starting point in mind this time. “On the phone, you said that you didn’t speak to your family much _before_ , meaning that there was an event which caused change. What happened?”

 

“You’re going to be a great lawyer, you know that? My sister would love to have you working for her,” says Grantaire.

 

“You’re blatantly avoiding the question,” says Enjolras.

 

Grantaire takes a small sip. “The short version is I had an argument with my parents, and they told the rest of my family that it would be best if they never saw me again.”

 

Enjolras supresses his outrage. “And the long version?”

 

Grantaire looks up at him, meeting his eyes for a moment before they slide back to the table. “The long version is that my parents were barely at home long enough to tell me how much of a disappointment I was. I mean, I got good grades, but I was kind of a fuck up in everything else. So pretty much what I’m like now.”

 

“Grantaire –“ says Enjolras.

 

Grantaire looks up at him sharply. “Do you want to hear to story or not?” Enjolras takes a sip of his own drink, and waits for Grantaire to continue. “I left as soon as I graduated high school, did some traveling and stuff, learnt to be less of a fuck up.” Grantaire smiles faintly, “Claire used to call whenever she could even though she was so crazy busy. You know she studied and did two unpaid internships while she got her degree? I think she got like four hours of sleep every night, totally crazy. My parents, of course, were so proud. They even managed to fit her graduation ceremony into their busy schedules. When Claire convinced me to come home, they thought I’d do the same thing as her, I mean, our whole family is all lawyers, politicians and lobbyists, it’s basically a family tradition at this point.”

 

“But you didn’t,” says Enjolras. He doesn’t know much about Grantaire’s history, but he does know that Grantaire hasn’t changed majors since he got to university.

 

Grantaire looks up at him again, and he manages to keep his gaze level with Enjolras. “No, I didn’t. When I told them I’d gotten in on an _art scholarship_ , they ... well saying they didn’t take it well would be an understatement. Honestly, I think it was the longest conversation I’ve ever had with them, even if most of it was just yelling about how much of a disgrace to the family I was. Am. Anyway, they told me it was either their way or get out, and I chose get out. I guess that’s why Marius and I get along so well, you know? He knows what it’s like to get an ultimatum like that.”

 

“They really said that? Over an art scholarship?” Enjolras’ parents probably wouldn’t have been happy with him either if he’d disappeared and then told them he was going to study something unexpected. Then again, Enjolras’ parents would never have let him fall out of contact like that, and they certainly would never have told him to get out. He may have had a lot of lengthy arguments about politics and society with his parents, but they’d never told him that he was a disappointment.

 

Grantaire’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t think it was the art scholarship so much as it was me as a whole.”

 

“Then your parents are even more _ridiculous_ than I thought. They should be proud of you, your artwork is amazing,” says Enjolras.

 

“You don’t have to say things like that just to try to make me feel better,” says Grantaire, “I mean, I’m pretty much over it now. I’ve still got Claire, and now I have Marius, and Les Amis, and you.” Grantaire’s cheeks go a little pink.

 

“I’m not saying it to make you feel better. They should be proud of you, _I’m_ proud of you,” says Enjolras.

 

Grantaire looks up at him, and this time his smile does reach his eyes. “I – thanks.”

 

“You don’t have to thank me for saying something that’s true,” says Enjolras.

 

Grantaire’s smile widens, lighting up his whole face. He glances at the clock on the wall, and back to Enjolras. “It’s getting kind of late, don’t you have an essay or something you had to work on?”

 

“I brought my things with me,” says Enjolras, “I was thinking I could do some work on it over here, if that’s okay?”

 

“Oh,” says Grantaire, “yeah, sure, definitely. You can stay over, if you want? I mean, you don’t have to.”

 

“I don’t have class until after lunch tomorrow,” says Enjolras.

 

“Is that a yes?” says Grantaire.

 

“It’s a yes,” says Enjolras.

 

They smile at each other across the table, and Enjolras wonders if his smiles looks as wide and goofy as Grantaire’s. It certainly feels as though it does. He doesn’t mind.

 

Enjolras prefers to work on a bed, a habit he picked up from Cosette in high school. Grantaire can do his sketch work pretty much anywhere (Enjolras once saw him sketching upside-down, hair brushing the floor and feet kicked over the headrest while he worked).

 

Enjolras sits with his back against the headboard, fingers flying over the keys of his laptop as soon as he can get the document open. Grantaire lies next to him on his stomach, resting on his elbows as he sketches. Enjolras’ leg is warm where it’s pressed against Grantaire. Apart from Enjolras’ taping at the keys and the scratching of Grantaire’s pencil, the house is quiet. It feels different to the quiet in his own apartment, more peaceful.

 

Enjolras pauses as he finishes off a paragraph. “I’m glad you told me, about your family. I want you to know that you can talk to me about it, anytime, if you want to.”

 

Grantaire turns his head to look up at him. “Usually I don’t. I mean, they’re not part of my life anymore and they’re not likely to be a part of it in the future, that’s just how it is.” Enjolras opens his mouth to interrupt because _it most certainly is not okay_ , but Grantaire continues, “and that’s okay, I kind of have a better family now anyway.”

 

“Oh,” says Enjolras.

 

Grantaire smiles up at him. “Yeah, _oh_.” He pauses, craning his neck a little to look at Enjolras’ laptop screen. “How much more do you have on your essay? I think I’m done for the night.”

 

“If you’re tired, you don’t have to wait for me,” says Enjolras, “I can dim the screen and work with the light off.”

 

“I’m not tired,” says Grantaire.

 

“ _Oh_ ,” says Enjolras again, as Grantaire slides a hand slowly up his leg.

 

Grantaire’s grin is wolfish. “So how much more on the essay?”

 

“It’s not due for another three weeks, I’ve got time to work on it later.” Enjolras shuts the laptop, and puts it on the floor, sliding it a little under the bed.

 

When Enjolras turns back to Grantaire, he’s moved closer, a wide grin still on his face. Enjolras grins back, and closes the gap between them.

 

After all, they do have the house to themselves for a few more hours.

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is always loved and appreciated: fangirl-squee.tumblr.com/ask


End file.
